Happy Accident
by Escarghost
Summary: "Arthur recently moves to a new city and bumps into a tall American fellow that seems to not be paying attention to where he's going." For British-neko-chan for the 2014 USUK Secret Santa on tumblr.


**Woohoo! I've finally got my first fic up! This is for **british-neko-chan**on tumbl ****for the tumblr 2014 USUK Secret Santa. Con/crit is very much welcome! I hope you enjoy~!**

* * *

"Arthuuuur!"

Arthur slammed his hands down onto the table, causing his pencil to roll off of the table. This was the fifth time he's been called upstairs. Why couldn't he just do his stupid homework in peace?

He angrily made his way upstairs, stopping in the doorway at the top of the steps. Arms crossed and large brows furrowed, Arthur glared at the moving blanket-cocoon lying in the bed. "What do you want now, Peter?" He huffed.

The form groaned. "I'm huuungryyyyy!"

Arthur sighed, running his hands through his messy hair. He explained to his younger brother that their mum was still out and would not be home for a few more hours. All he got in response was another moan.

"If you're so hungry, why don't I make you something?" Arthur suggested. A blond head poked out from underneath the blankets, glaring at the man standing in the doorway.

"What, are you trying to kill me? I'm already sick, I don't need your excuse for cooking making me worse."

Arthur scoffed in offence. His cooking skills weren't that bad! Their appliances were faulty, that's all! Sure, his food comes out burnt when he's at other people's houses, but that's beside the point. The Brit turned back down the stairs, yelling up to his brother. "Fine! If you're so damn hungry, I'll go to the bloody store!" He shoved his shoes on, grabbing his coat out of the closet and his phone from the table. "If Alistair or Dylan come home before me, tell them I went out," Arthur called before finally leaving the house.

_Whatever. I need to find my way around town anyway_, He thought.

Arthur paused on his front porch to examine the neighbourhood. It was different from the one he used to live in, back in England. There was more nature, more flowers and trees and bushes. Here, it was mostly just grass, some hedges used as borders to separate lawns. There was the occasional house with a garden in front. There was, however, a forest not too far from there, near the high school. Luckily for Arthur, both were close, and he planned to check it out after school on Monday. Perhaps he'll meet some mystical creatures to befriend?

There was one problem, Arthur soon realised. He had no idea where the grocery store was. He remembered passing by it when they were moving in, but he wasn't paying much attention to their surroundings.

And so, Arthur wandered around, looking for the store. Like hell he was asking for directions. After about ten minutes of walking and getting nowhere, the Briton turned back towards home, not caring about Peter's whining. He'd just have to wait until their mother got home. Or, at least, that was the plan. Arthur turned around and ran straight into someone's chest. He found himself flat on his ass. He groaned, rubbing his tail bone.

"Sorry dude, didn't see you there. You alright?" Asked the man.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you. My apologies, I shouldn't have turned around so suddenly..."

"Say, didn't you just move in across the street? The Kirkland's, right?"

Arthur paused. Across the street? Wonderful, the lad must've been from his neighbourhood. Maybe he could help Arthur find his way to the store?

Taking the other's outstretched hand, Arthur stood up, dusting off his clothes. "Yes, that's right. Arthur Kirkland. It's a pleasure to finally meet one of the neighbours," he said politely.

Alfred took his hand again and shook it violently. "Alfred F. Jones, at your service! It's great to have new peeps on the block!" he exclaimed, a bright grin splitting his face.

Arthur tentatively smiled back. "Well, Alfred, since you're here, would you mind telling me how to get to the-"

"Woah, dude, hold still!" Alfred said suddenly, eyes wide. "You got somethin' on your face..." His eyes narrowed, and he leaned in slightly to get a better look. Arthur furrowed his brows, lifting a hand to his face. He jumped when Alfred yelped. "Oh my God, they just moved!"

Arthur rubbed his face. "What the bloody hell are you talking about?" He asked.

Alfred pointed at his face. "Right there! Above your eyes!" He indicated the spot on his own face. Arthur reached up, confused. What was he going on about? There was nothing there but his-

It donned on Arthur. He slowly lowered his hands, crossing his arms over his chest. He glared at Alfred. "Those are my eyebrows, you dolt." Manners be damned, he wasn't going to be insulted like this!

Alfred blinked. "Are you sure?" When he saw how serious the Englishman was, he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry, dude. I've never seen someone with such awesomely large eyebrows as yours..."

Arthur loosened his stance, but continued to scowl. "Whatever. Could you just point me in the direction of the grocery store?" he said tersely.

The American beamed. "Dude, no way! I'm actually headed there right now. We can go together!"

_Just my luck..._ Arthur wanted to refuse, but what good would that do? He doesn't know how to get there. Besides, he already said he was going, there's no way to take that back. He sighed, nodding reluctantly. Alfred whooped and started walking, humming to himself. Arthur trudged behind him. It couldn't be that far, right?

* * *

Oh, how wrong he was. The store was a 15-minute walk away. Overall, though, the trip wasn''t all that bad. Alfred talked most of the time, Arthur throwing in a few thoughts from time to time to show that he was listening (not that it would've mattered). Arthur used the time to finally get a good look at the American.

Alfred wasn't much taller than himself, only about a 2cm difference, but it was enough to annoy the Brit. He wore plain blue jeans and a Superman t-shirt underneath a large bomber jacket. He seemed to be rather well built, but a little soft around the middle. Arthur couldn't help pointing it out, manners be damned (he was being an idiot, he had to!), earning him a punch and a "It's just baby fat!". He couldn't help but laugh at the boy's red face. After he calmed down, Arthur continued to discreetly check him out. _I am not "checkng him out"_, he told himself._ I'm merely taking notes, that's all._ Alfred's hair was the colour of golden wheat, well kept, wth the exception of an annoying little cowlick that seemed to defy gravity.

He was a rather handsome man, Arthur noted. But what captured him the most was his eyes. They were a beautiful blue, like the feathers of a blue jay. Even as they made their way back, the sun having set some time ago, Alfred's eyes sparkled. Arthur found himself staring multiple times. Alfred caught him once, a shit-eating grin forming on his face.

"Enjoying the view?" He asked smugly. Arthur's face exploded into a bright red.

"You wish, stupid Yank," he managed to say. The American burst into laughter, having to lean on a lamp post for support. Arthur then proceeded to hit Alfred, swears flying out of his mouth. That only made Alfred laugh harder.

By the time they returned to their street, it was around 6:30. Arthur had been gone for over an hour and he hadn't even noticed. He pointed it out to Alfred, saying he should hurry back. Alfred just grinned.

"It's alright, Artie. Sorry again for running into ya earlier..." he said sheepishly. Arthur smiled back.

"It's Arthur. I already told you it's fine, Alfred. And thank you for showing me to the store. Your accompaniment was... surprisingly pleasant."

Arthur was hit with another bright smile. "No problemo! If you have any other questions about the place, or if you just wanna, I dunno, hang out or somethin', I live riiight over there!" Alfred pointed to a house on the other side of the street, right across from where Arthur lived. Arthur nodded.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said. They stood in front of Arthur's home awkwardly until Alfred broke the silence.

"So... I guess I'll see you Monday?" Arthur looked at him in confusion. "Y'know, at school? I'm pretty sure I have a few classes with you." Arthur hummed in acknowledgement.

"Yes, I suppose so," He said. "Just don't embarrass me, you wanker. I've yet to make an impression at this school, and I'd like it to be a good one."

Alfred snorted. "Yeah, like I'd have a chance to embarrass you with eyebrows like those. I'm sure they've made quite an impression on their own." Arthur kicked his companion in the shins, swearing once more.

"Whatever. I'll be going now. Goodnight, Alfred," Arthur said, arms crossed. He turned to face his house to try and hide the smile creeping across his face.

Alfred let go of his leg to wave at his back. "'Night, Artie! See ya!"

Arthur whipped his head around, scowling. "It's "Arthur", not "Artie", you arse."

The American just flashed a smile before slightly limping across the street, towards his own home. Blush evident on his pale face, Arthur stomped the rest of the way up the drive, almost slamming the door shut. He sighed, running his hand through his hair and moving the curtains aside to look back out. He was startled by a voice behind him.

"It's about damn time ya got home."

Arthur turned and found his oldest brother, Alistair, sitting on the couch, arms crossed. He rose and crossed the room to stand in front of his little brother. Alistair shook his head, his red hair swaying with the movement. "And just what the 'ell took ya so long? Ya left sick ol' Peter 'ere all alone," he said.

Arthur glared up at him. "I had no idea where the store was. You should blame Peter for complaining all bloody day about being hungry."

Alistair looked out the window behind Arthur. Alfred was just standing on his door step, occasionally looking back at their house. He saw Alistair watching him and quickly entered his house. Alistair looked back at Arthur, a questioning look on his face. "Who was that?" He smirked deviously when saw the remains of Arthur's blush. "Aww, don't tell me our little Arthur's got 'imself a boyfriend already?" He snickered when Arthur's flush deepened. Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off. "I guess 'e's pretty cute, for a brat. Let's hope 'e doesn't do nothin' to hurt ya," Alistair said over his shoulder, before disappearing into the kitchen with most of Arthur's groceries. Arthur stood there, scowling.

"He's not my bloody boyfriend..." he said sourly. Arthur angrily made his way upstairs, throwing the ramen he bought at Peter and escaping to his room.

* * *

Alfred quickly shut the door. _Did he see me? Oh, God, he did, didn't he?_ He ran a hand through his hair. How embarrassing. Alfred took off his bomber jacket, throwing it on the couch. He smiled to himself. A woman called from the kitchen.

"Alfred, is that you?"

Alfred entered the kitchen and rummaged through the refrigerator. "Hey, mom. How was your day?" He asked as he pulled a Coke out, looking satisfied. Alfred's mother, Alice, spoke over her shoulder from her place at the stove. She must've been cooking dinner. No wonder it smelled like burning.

"It was great, actually. One of the guys at work finally got fired."

"The one with the really long hair?" Alfred wrinkled his nose as he asked.

"That's the one." She turned towards her son, wiping her hands on a towel and fixing her glasses. "It's about time, too. He would've lost a limb if he tried touching me again, I promise." Alice scowled. Alfred laughed at the thought. Alice set the towel down beside her and crossed her arms. "And just where have you been all day, mister?" She asked sternly.

"Oh, I just ran down to the store," He answered. Alice gave him a disbelieving look.

"Really?"

"Really!"

"Then where are your bags?" Alice raised a delicate eyebrow. She had him cornered, she knew it. Alfred looked away and shrugged.

"They, uh, didn't have what I was looking for..." He trailed off. What a lame excuse! Was that the best he could come up with?

Alice shook her head and turned back towards the stove. "If you say so," she said. He could tell she didn't believe him. "Go get washed up. Tell Matthew to come help me set the plates, Amelia should be home soon," She said fondly. She always got like that when she talked about his step-mother. Alfred nodded and hurried out of the room.

"Oh, and Alfred?" She called. He stopped at the bottom of the steps.

"Y-Yeah, mom?"

"Next time, invite the lad over for dinner. I raised you better than that." Alfred's face flushed, and he ran up the stairs. Alice chuckled. "Poor fool, thinks he can hide things from his mother." She frowned down at the pan, clicking her tongue. "Now, where does she keep that fire extinguisher..."

* * *

Alfred flopped down face-first onto his bed. He grabbed his pillow and turned to his side, smothering his face into it. Matthew looked over from the computer. "I take it it went well?" The blond boy let out a (very manly) squeal. Matthew shook his head, turning back to the monitor. "You know, Al, I'll never understand your logic..."

Alfred just sighed into the pillow, smiling madly.


End file.
